


Let Me Hold You

by peachiesundae (paperbeck)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Homesickness, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, lance’s family - Freeform, soft bois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27654365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperbeck/pseuds/peachiesundae
Summary: Keith is passing Lance’s room when he hears a desperately homesick Lance crying, and comforts him the way Lance’s family would: hugs.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 79





	Let Me Hold You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reene_writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reene_writes/gifts).



Keith was on his way to lay down in his room and de-stress from their latest mission when he passed Lance’s door. It was slightly cracked, and from the space inside he heard a sniffle and a quiet, choked breath that ended with a gasp.

The sound, one Keith was familiar with hearing stifled from his own mouth during his darkest moments, made him pause. Was Lance...crying?

He retreated a few steps back to the door to be sure, but seemingly aware of someone’s presence, Lance stopped the sounds as best he could to say, “Go away, Hunk...”

He sounded miserable; if it had been Hunk instead, Keith’s certain he would have barged right in anyway.

Keith knocked on the door, somewhat uselessly at that point, and said, “It’s, ah, Keith. Actually. Do you mind if I come in?”

Lance didn’t answer for a moment, the sound of his sniffles and deep breaths muffled in a pillow. “Yeah, of course, dude, come on in,” he managed in a somewhat even tone.

Keith pushed open the door and looked to the right, where Lance sat on his bed; despite the smile on his face, Keith could see the blue-green light of his room illuminating the not-quite-gone tear tracks on his cheeks and reflecting off the unnatural shine of his watery blue eyes.

“What are ya’ here for, Keith? Did you come to ‘stalk’ up on some puns?” He cracked a smile, but Keith’s expression remained deadpan in response.

“Get it? Because you were outside my door. Stalking me.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t stalking you. I was on my way back to my own room, which is as silent and pun-free as I’d like it to be.” His expression softened a fraction when he continued, “I only stopped because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Pft, ‘okay’, why wouldn’t I be okay? The mission went fine—”

“That’s a loose definition of ‘fine’ you’ve got—”

“—and we’re all alive. So why wouldn’t I be okay?” Lance’s voice wavered on the last word.

Keith folded his arms and leaned on the wall next to Lance’s bed. “Contrary to what you might think, I actually don’t wanna be here all night.”

Lance raised his eyebrows suggestively at the sentence, and Keith narrowed his eyes in response. “Not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I should have made sure the door was closed,” Lance mumbled, staring and his own hands aimlessly.

“ _Lance_.”

“I miss my family, okay?” Lance replied, his focus on controlling his voice weakening slightly in favor of not crying. “I miss getting to the dinner table and Luís wrapping me in a big bear hug and lifting me off the ground. I miss Rachel sneaking up behind me when I’m playing a game and resting her chin on my head to ‘see what I see’. I miss Marco ruffling my hair up to tease me when I make a bad joke.”

Keith’s eyes widened as Lance got so wrapped up in his memories that he didn’t notice the tears he was letting fall into his own lap as he barreled on.

“I miss Mom giving me a kiss on the cheek when she sees me every morning. I miss babysitting _mis sobrinos_ and holding their hands when we cross the street. I miss—“

He stutters, looking up at Keith with tears streaming, to find the other completely enraptured by his words. Keith nods, encouraging him wordlessly, and Lance continues, the last of his walls broken down.

“I miss my _tía_ batting my hand away when I try to steal a bit of her cooking before she’s done, and I miss leaning on my abuela’s shoulder to look at her old _fotos_ and I miss Pop-Pop trying to steal the last garlic knot and—and even Veronica flicking me in the nose when she’s fed up with me for the night. And when we were all together, m-my abuelo would call us into the living room for an “abrazazo” and all twelve of us had, like, the b-biggest group hug you’ve ever seen.” 

He stopped, taking a deep, shuddering breath, before wiping his eyes and looking back up to Keith. “Sometimes I just can’t handle not knowing when I’ll see them again. _If_ I’ll see them again.”

Keith’s gray eyes searched Lance’s blues for a flicker of hope, but it looked like time and anxiety had taken their toll.

He thought about the memories Lance had just shared — memories so different from any Keith had — and remembered the remnants of an overheard conversation about love languages.

 _Touch_. Lance, and maybe his entire family, showed their love through physical affection. Lance had been away from them, in _space_ , for who knows how long.

When was the last time someone touched him besides moving him from a line of fire?

Shutting his eyes, forcing his own fears - and butterflies? No, absolutely not butterflies - down, Keith still couldn’t prepare himself for what he asked Lance.

“Lance, can I...hug you?”

Blue eyes lit up, but confusion took over the rest of Lance’s features as he wiped his eyes on his blanket. “Keith, you—uh, why?”

Keith stopped leaning on the wall, but when he opened his mouth, he couldn’t find a reason. _Because you’re sad_ , he thought, but Lance doesn’t want his pity. And it’s not pity he’s offering, either; he...cared. He didn’t want Lance to feel alone, and if hugging him was what it took, then so be it.

Lance stood, but maintained what distance he could. “Keith, if it’s going to make you uncomfortable...”

Keith shook his head. “You didn’t answer my question, Lance. Can I hug you?”

The expression on Lance’s face wasn’t hopeful — he refused to let his emotions betray him that way — and when he said, “Of course you can, Keith,” he opened his arms wide.

The few steps Keith took toward him were hesitant, his own eyes calculating the appropriate angle of his arms and which leg he should have where, and before he could calculate it all perfectly, his chest meets Lance’s. On instinct — one that he wasn’t aware he possessed — his arms wrapped under Lance’s and around his back.

For a moment, his hands were balled into nervous fists, but when Lance let go of the sobs he’d been holding in and wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders, all of Keith’s focus went to comforting him. He splayed his hands across Lance’s back, running them gently from his shoulders to his mid back over the thin material of his gray tank top as Lance dampened the collar of Keith’s black undershirt with tears.

Keith didn’t remember the last time touching someone felt so right.

They stood there, holding each other together, until Lance’s eyes ran dry and his breathing steadied out. Keith hoped against hope that the quickening of his pulse went unnoticed as Lance finally pulled away.

The smile on Lance’s face was real, now; his eyes still shined, but with gratitude and affection rather than despair. “Thank you, Keith. You, uh. You have no idea how much that meant to me.”

The flush on his cheeks didn’t register with the older boy as Keith reassured him.

“It wasn’t a big deal, but...you’re welcome, Lance.” He moved to leave, but halfway out the door, he turned back. “And if you need another... hug... sometime, just ask. Okay?”

“Okay,” Lance replied, smiling.

As they each finally lost the fight with mental fatigue, they fell asleep, neither of them dreaming about how the others’ arms had felt against their skin. Absolutely not.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Voltron fic! Comments & kudos are appreciated <3


End file.
